Wrong World
by Bohemian Storm
Summary: AU: Each story will explore how different Middle-Earth would be had someone kept/stolen/accepted the Ring. Story one - Boromir. *WIP*


Disclaimer: I don't own them, but I'd love to adopt the hobbits.  
  
Notes: The *last* thing I need is another chapter fic, but it's eating away at me until I write it. Though, I must warn people now that this won't be updated very often as I have two other chapter fics that need to be finished.  
  
More Notes: This story will explore different possible universes. I don't read much LotR fanfiction, so it's probably been done, but I like the idea and it's dying to be written. Each 'story' will be a glimpse at what the world would be like had one of the characters kept and used the Ring.  
  
  
  
Story One:   
Boromir - Prologue  
  
  
In the shaded woods he advanced on Frodo, his face contorted in anger and his eyes mad. The hobbit could see the desire for the Ring in Boromir's eyes and it frightened him more than most of their journey had. He wanted the Ring so badly that he would do anything for it. Frodo knew Boromir would even kill the hobbit if he had to. They quarreled and Frodo tried to escape, he tried to back away, run away, but the human was faster.   
  
Boromir's hand closed over on Frodo's ankle, pulling the hobbit down to the floor of the woods. The trees above sheltered them from the sun and the leaves on the ground were cold and wet. Frodo slipped on the wet leaves, his balance abandoning him in the most crucial moment and he fell hard. His fingers went to the Ring immediately, grasping for the shining gold metal that hung from the elven chain around his neck. He would not let Boromir have it; he would die protecting it if he had to.  
  
"I want it," Boromir hissed, reaching for the Ring. His cold fingers closed over Frodo's, prying them away from the Ring with a fierce power Frodo had never seen in him before.   
  
He tried to hold on, his tiny hands clutching to the One Ring with a strength he hadn't know that he possessed. He was just a hobbit, but while he was still alive he would do everything he could to make sure that the Ring didn't fall into the wrong hands. Once that happened there was no going back, there was no returning the Ring of power once one wielded it and felt it infest them. It was like an infection, a disease spreading through the blood until it reached the heart.  
  
Frodo clutched the Ring tighter, but Boromir's hands worked their way in and pried his fingers away. His hands were so cold, so inhuman, Frodo decided with a shudder as the Ring was finally pulled from his grasp. Boromir yanked it hard enough to snap the strong chain around his neck, the links cut into Frodo's skin and he yelped, jumping away from Boromir.  
  
The man rose before him, the Ring glittering in the muted sunlight of the woods. Frodo wanted to scream out for someone to help him, he wanted Gandalf to be there, he wanted Aragorn to come flying through the woods with his sword poised and readied for battle. Frodo wanted anyone to come save him from what was about to happen, but no one came and the woods around them remained still and silent. If he could have found his voice he would have yelled, but the only noise that poured over his lips was a single hoarse, whispered word.  
  
"No."  
  
Boromir caught the whisper and he smiled down at the hobbit. "Oh yes, halfling. This is me and this is my Ring . . . my precious."  
  
The woods around them seemed to darken and the dangerous smile crossed Boromir's lips once more. He possessed the Ring, it was his and he would use it to create the world he had always dreamed of. He would rebuild, make right all the wrongs done to his people. He would be the King of Middle-Earth and in that moment, Boromir felt that he would be righteous.  
  
Frodo knew otherwise.  
  
In the split second it took for the Ring to adjust to its new master, Frodo stood and turned away from Boromir, unable to look upon the man he had trusted. The one man who had now betrayed them all, and who would cause the end of their world with his greed. He tried to leave, his foots still slipping on the leaves, but Boromir's hand closed down on his shoulder and Frodo stopped dead. There would be no escaping him, not with the Ring under his possession.  
  
"Come back to the beach with me, little one," Boromir said, his smile so similar to the one Frodo had seen many times over the past months, but filled with such muted malice that it made the hobbit shiver.  
  
"The others will return soon enough," Boromir said as they walked, his hand still clamped tightly on the hobbit's shoulder. "And when they return, you and I will tell them of our decision, won't we Frodo?"  
  
"What decision?"  
  
Boromir smiled again. "Your decision to let me hold the Ring for the rest of the trip. They'll understand, of course. You know that, don't you? They know the burden which you carry and they will understand and accept your need to have someone help you with that burden."  
  
"I won't lie to my friends," Frodo said softly.  
  
"You will do whatever I tell you, or gentle Samwise Gamgee may not make it very far in this trek, Frodo, my lad." Boromir's voice was soft, but it was filled with deadly venom. "Have we reached an understanding?"  
  
Frodo caught a glimpse of Sam's curly hair through the trees and his heart skipped a beat just thinking about the harm Boromir could do to his best friend.  
  
"Frodo?"  
  
The hobbit lowered his head sadly. "Yes, Boromir, we have an understanding."  
  
  
End Prologue 


End file.
